Erhart von Wurtemburg

Half-elf Male Fighter/Thief/Magic User 3/3/3 NG

STR:16 DEX:15 CON:16 INT:15 WIS:13 CHA:15

HP: 21

Languages: German, Greek, Latin, French

PP:25% O/L:25% F/RT:40% MS:10%

HiS:15% DN:15% CW:75% RL:55%

Clever, athletic and attractive, Erhart embodied the virtues expected of a member from the Wurtemburg family. With access to the finest instructors in Germany he was sure to grow up in the noble tradition, perhaps to one day achieve the Swabian duchy as so many of his family had vied for in the past.

In his 17th year, his upbringing was interrupted. One of his family’s notoriously complicated (and frequently ill-timed) assassination plots had been exposed and the male heirs were in danger. He was spirited off to the Black Forest with his tutor to take refuge with allied elves until it was safe for him to return home.

Accustomed to a strictly regimented lifestyle, Erhart soon became antsy and bored amongst the laid back elves. He befriended one of the less risk-averse members of the forest folk and, along with his teacher, began exploring the ruins that dot the swartzwald.

Elves avoided enclosed stone spaces as a general rule, and so almost none of the structures throughout the forest had ever been thoroughly investigated. After killing their fair share of carrion crawlers and low-level undead, the trio came upon an oddly-shaped edifice that had once been carefully hidden in a copse of trees since been cleared for firewood. They hacked it, and found traps still in place, even though it didn’t seem to be a tomb or have anything ostensibly valuable to protect. Within they found lion-headed statues and life-size bull figures gazing skywards, their necks exposed... and after searching the building, discovered a carefully folded piece of parchment wedged between a pillar and the wall that had to be hundreds of years old.

Written therein were crib notes for some kind of test, contextless study notes about a god named Mithra, a witch named Ikkulu, a lifelong mission and the end of the world. It left him unsettled. After failing to interest any of the elder elves in what they had discovered, Erhart hesitantly turned his back on the political machinations of Wurtemburg and struck out for Rheims with his companions to research further.

So it was that they began piecing together the secret history of Alexander the Great and the quest he failed to complete. From Rheims they sought to retrace Alexander’s footsteps out of Macedon which brought them to the freshly hacked dungeons in Philippi, Thesaloniki and Pella. They weighed the odds that The Danger Gang had the same idea they did against the persistent rumors that they were just a bunch of wang-drawing yahoos looking for treasure. After it became clear that any clues to the location of Aegae had no doubt already been found and eradicated by their apparent competition, the trio bit the bullet and headed to Chrysopolis to deal with the Gang directly.

They found Eorl, of course, who was deeply interested in the scraps they found in the Mithraic dungeon, and he grilled them for hours over every shred of information they had uncovered. Erhart was put off by the elf, who seemed scatterbrained and ill-suited to lead such an important effort. Over several interactions he was grudgingly forced to admit that the elf was woven too deeply within events that were unfolding as part of the secret history of the world he had uncovered in Baden to ignore, and agreed to help out.

Eventually, Erhart assumed, the elf would be found wanting, and the quest would fall to him to complete. Best to learn what he could before that time, and prepare himself for the inevitable. The Swabian duchy would have to wait. He hoped his parents weren’t too worried about his absence.